


home is where you...

by A_Salieri



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AtsuHina, Canon Compliant, Light Angst, M/M, implied kagehina
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26529124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Salieri/pseuds/A_Salieri
Summary: No need to drag the inevitable."Atsumu."What else is he supposed to expect?"How's Brazil?"This was the first in months he heard his boyfriend's voice again."Atsumu, we need to talk."...Takes place before MSBY vs. Adlers match. Hinata comes back to Japan.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	home is where you...

**Author's Note:**

> I reposted this because i deleted my old acc and because a certain someone convinced me to.  
> If you recognize this, no you don't... T-T also this is highly similar to my other fic, it takes time. this is another take to it.

A taste of heaven and more.

Atsumu was given this, and beyond that, Hinata loved him.

And he loved him back.

There was nothing more silent than the way Atsumu brought down his phone from its place against his ear, almost too weakly, looking blankly at the dark sky illuminated by the string of city lights from the busy crowd of Tokyo.

Leaning down the kitchen counter, he gulped and blinked a few times. Digesting what just happened within the two minute phone call that ended everything. And more.

His hands ran itself through his unkempt hair, greasy from practice earlier that day. He wasn't even able to sit down and take a shower when his phone rang that night, and for some reason he already knew what it was about. Who was it from.

Atsumu hates being called after practice. All of his friends knew that. Only one person didn't, for the reason that no matter what time he called, it didn't matter how tired Atsumu was, no matter how much his eyes wanted to sleep, how much his muscles hurt begging him for rest—

Atsumu would always answer.

This is something that he always anticipated to happen, one way or another, for quite a while now. A part of his brain doesn't want to answer the call, because he could more or less guess what it is about. But he knows he has to.

No need to drag the inevitable.

"Atsumu."

What else is he supposed to expect?

"How's Brazil?"

This was the first in months he heard his boyfriend's voice again.

"Atsumu, we need to talk."

-

Twirling his spoon, Atsumu is staring once again at nothing in particular. His third cup of cocoa that morning which he has been stirring for about twenty minutes now, lost all of its heat.

A noise awoke him from all of his idle thoughts.

"What are ya doin' here?" Upon opening the door, Atsumu spoke first. Osamu seldomly visits his brother, and very randomly too. One time he woke his twin up in the middle of the night, wearing tank tops and shorts, mismatched slippers, asking for milk to his cereal. It was a fact that Atsumu is older than his brother (by just a few minutes)— and Atsumu cannot deny the times he tried to use his so-called seniority to get away with things he wants— but even that has limitations.

Without a word, Osamu barged inside his apartment, a smug look in his face. He took one gaze at his brother, who is still holding his spoon, and his expression which was initially somewhat displeased, now became borderline nasty.

"What happened?" Osamu mused.

Atsumu folded his arms against his chest, and looked at his brother who is now plopping himself down the sofa, lifting his legs, basically lying down. He's so tall that his feet hang at the end, but he doesn't seem to mind it.

"Nothing. Why do you ask?"

"I don't remember having a pathetic looking brother."

Atsumu raised his eyebrow and leaned his face towards the glass of one of his cupboards, surveying his appearance.

True, he's forming a stubble, and his eyes look more tired than ever but other than that, he looks pretty normal.

"What do ya mean? I'm alright."

Osamu placed his arms behind his head and sneered. "Exactly."

Atsumu sighed and returned to his neglected cup. He drank it all in one go, feeling his stomach churning from all the chocolate he finished and placed the mug on the sink.

"Ya know, if all you came here for is to take a jab at me, you are wasting yer time. I don't care. Everybody looks ugly in the morning."

"Well, not me." Osamu brought down his feet to the floor and looked at his brother again. Meaningfully this time.

Atsumu tilted his head.  _ What? _

Osamu just stared at him.  _ You know what I'm here for. _

There is just something between twins that could make them understand what the other is trying to say without speaking— although most of the time Atsumu finds it troublesome.

Back in highschool, Osamu can always guess his crushes even before Atsumu realizes he likes them. He had no idea how Osamu was able to notice, and how it was always accurate that it was almost alarming. Sometimes he even wonders if Osamu could read thoughts, but he knows it's an extremely absurd idea. Of course he can't. Right?

For example, Hinata Shouyou.

In the middle of a timeout, during their second set in the game in Nationals versus Karasuno, Osamu tapped Atsumu's shoulder and flashed him a mischievous grin which reads—or at least as Atsumu translates it—

_ Hinata huh? _

He  _ cannot  _ read thoughts _ , right? _

Atsumu shrugged at the memory as he looked back to his brother.

There is this lump in his throat that would not go down, persistently making itself known, making him uncomfortable. Reminding him of that time when he thought he’s gonna be okay. When he thought he’s gonna accept it like a man, when he thought it’s fine since he was used to not hearing anything about him even before that time.

He thought that there’s no way it’s gonna hurt. There’s no way it’s gonna hurt more than having to wake up in the morning, sleeping at night, not receiving a single text message from the one he loves. Having to wait and wait and  _ continue to wait _ every passing day, fully knowing that there’s nothing that will change. No way at all.

Alas, he underestimated his love.

Osamu sat up from his initial position, his eyes now focusing on his brother. Seeing, knowing.  _ Noticing.  _

_ Maybe he can. Who knows? _

-

Atsumu did something he almost never does.

That is helping out at his brother’s restaurant.

The face Osamu made when Atsumu walked inside of his sliding door, first thing in the morning, was almost impressive.

Mouth opening, about to mock him, one look on Atsumu’s face told him all he needed to know.

Silently heading towards the back of the room, coming back with an apron.

Atsumu accepts it. He has never been the type to handle things well.

-

"Have you heard?"

How the hell could he not when that's the only thing his teammate Bokuto Koutarou is talking about for a week during practice. Saying things like his disciple coming back to Japan, excitedly guessing what kind of souvenirs he would bring and all kinds of nonsense that Atsumu chose to shut himself out. They have a scheduled game versus Adlers in the next 3 months, and there is no place in Atsumu's mind to be filled with other things other than volleyball.

He picked up his gym bag, leaving all of his teammates' animated chattering, Bokuto explaining who _Hinata Shouyou_ is and how he is this 5 foot something middle blocker in high school. How he could make people think he is capable of reaching the skies with his jump, leaving behind a trail of inborn skill and training in his wake.

How he smiles and glows and laughs just like there's nothing in the world that could harm him, how he hungers and craves and greeds for more, and how he decides to quench it all.

Atsumu is aware of this. He doesn't need to listen.

"He'll be joining us for tryouts." A deep voice belonging to their coach cut through Bokuto's cheery talk. "I have already talked to Hinata-kun on the phone. I'll assess him next week when he arrives."

Next week, he will come.

Atsumu pinched the bridge of his nose.  _ Nothing but volleyball. _

-

"Hello, my name is Hinata Shouyou, nice to meet you!"

An orange haired man bowed in front of them all and smiled. Atsumu felt his throat dry up and close as he tried to make sense of what was in front of him.

Hinata was different from how Atsumu remembered him. Too different. Almost nothing from the Shouyou back then resembles the man in front of them—muscly and tanned, a couple of inches taller than he'd last seen him, with his hair cut short.  _ Almost nothing _ , except his glinting eyes filled with unsatiated hunger—  _ one that used to look at him tenderly _ — and the color of his hair, the sunset that Atsumu used to always wake up to. It is still there.

Somewhat relieved, Atsumu released the exhale he wasn't aware he was holding back. Closing his slightly gaped mouth, he met Hinata's eyes.

They exchanged a nod, and looked the other way simultaneously.

That was it for the whole day.

-

"Did you hear that Bokuto-san? I'm in the starting lineup!" A jumping Hinata came across Atsumu's sight as he entered the court. Hinata, noticed something moving in his peripheral vision, pried his eyes away from laughing Bokuto and looked at Atsumu.

"Good morning, Atsumu! I'm in the starting lineup!" Hinata with his signature ear-to-ear smile, ran towards Atsumu's direction and looked up at him. This motion made something inside of Atsumu twinge, and he involuntarily flinched at the sudden feeling. Something familiar.

"I heard."

"You heard? From who?" Still smiling, he cocked his head to the side, his bangs lopsided, revealing a bit of his small forehead. Atsumu, seeing this, absentmindedly flicked it with his finger.

"O-Oh!" Hinata covered his forehead with his hands, the smile plastered on his face slowly disappearing as Atsumu held his hand in shock, having done one of his habits without knowing, one of the things he used to do to Hinata when he's teasing him.

An awkward choke of laughter escaped Atsumu's mouth as he scratched his head. "Sorry, force of habit." It certainly is, but the moment it escaped Atsumu's lips it almost sounded like an excuse. He was still getting used to being able to see him, to hear him, to be near him, and to be unable to touch him the way he wants to. It was his own personal hell.

In response, Hinata smiled gently.  _ Longingly,  _ as Atsumu hopefully views it, knowing fully that it isn't.

"It's alright." Hinata said shortly, eyes turning the other way.

"From you." Atsumu turned his back and walked towards the lockers.

"Sorry?"

"You asked right?" Without looking back, Atsumu waved his hand, feet almost heavily dragging against the floor.

-

"Sorry for that."

Awkward silence stretched between them as Kageyama and his teammates disappeared around the corner. Bokuto excused himself to buy some  _ Pocari  _ and Sakusa went to the bathroom, leaving Atsumu and Hinata next to each other, leaning against the wall, looking everywhere other than each other.

Atsumu wanted to smack himself. There's a limit to stupidity and insensitivity and he's sure he just crossed that line. How could he say that? How could he have draped his arm around Hinata and  _ say  _ that?

_ His  _ wing spiker? Since when? Probably before but definitely not now. Hinata Shouyou is MSBY's spiker, not his.  _ Not. His. _

"I'm just a bit startled. It's alright." With a weak chuckle, Hinata let the words tumble out of his mouth to his open palms, ringing against the silent corridor.

"No, sorry. I shouldn't have said that. It was inappropriate of me." Atsumu hurriedly replies, blinking much faster than before, feeling somewhat nervous, anxious and everything at once. Chest feeling heavy for some reason, he struggled to breathe through the guilt and shame while waiting for Hinata's reply.

Hinata didn't say anything for a while. He looked up the ceiling thoughtfully as if stars would suddenly appear above them and serve as an escape in this awkward scenario unfolding between them right now.

After quite some time, he placed his hands inside the pockets of his jacket and removed his back from the wall. He stood in front of Atsumu, eyes unfocused but still looking straight at him.

"Don't worry about it. It's not a big deal, we're friends right?" A smile hesitantly formed in his lips.

A short pause as Atsumu composed himself.

_ That's right, this is not a big deal. We are friends. _

"Right."

-

An unexplainable expression of ecstasy and glee on Hinata's face is the first thing Atsumu noticed as the buzz rang loudly throughout the court, signalling the end of the match. Panting, huffing, catching his breath, Atsumu bent down, placed his hands on either knees to prevent them from shaking, to prevent his whole body from completely collapsing facedown on the sweat-stained floor. He was utterly exhausted, his lungs out of air, it was painful and constricting, yet he was  _ high. _

The feeling of being in the court, this is what he came here for. Edges of his lips trembling, cheeks hurting, he cannot stop himself from smiling as the commentator announces their win.

Atsumu looks up and sees Hinata, his eyes fixated on his reddened palms, still imagining the feeling of the ball slamming against his skin, crisp and almost burning. Sees Bokuto, his arms high up in the air, spurring on the crowd to cheer for him, to shout his name. Sees Sakusa, finally given up, lying facedown on the floor, chest moving upwards, heaving and breathing.

Sees the rest of his teammates, the win still not registering on their faces, still upright, still tensed, then suddenly just like a flick of a finger, breaking down like dominoes as they cheer and hug each other.

_ This is what he came here for. _

Sees Hinata, looking at him with the happiest grin he ever saw on him, eyes crinkling, sparkling from sweat and post-game euphoria. He was glowing under the heat of the stadium's lights, almost too bright for the naked eye, almost too bright to reach.

_ Ah. _

-

"Cheers!"

Atsumu cupped his chin with his hand as he clink his mug of beer against his teammates'. They are inside their to-go-to  _ izakaya  _ where they would always go after matches, win or lose they would all drink themselves to death, placing stupid bets, playing stupid games— basically doing random things that would make people around them wonder if they are truly adults.

"Lacking a bit in spirit there, huh Miya?" Barnes regarded him as they brought down their mugs straight to their mouths, chugging the cold beverage.

"Am I?" Atsumu threw back the question and Oliver just shrugged.

Ringing bells resonated on Atsumu's ears as the sliding door opened, revealing several 6 foot men flooding inside the small building.

_ Ah, shit. _

"Kageyama!" Hinata jumped from his seat to greet the player who just entered. "Ushijima-san, Hoshiumi-san." Hinata bowed and gave way for them to move further inside.

_ "Great _ , they're here." A person behind them, standing close to the door pointed out, eyes glancing sideways at Atsumu's table.

"Should we look for another?" Another unfamiliar voice asked.

"No, this is fine. We're just enemies in the court. Hello, Hinata-kun." Ushijima nodded in response and set off to sit on the table next to where Atsumu and his team were sitting, which left Meian speechless— because of all the unoccupied seats available,  _ of all,  _ he chose to sit next to them.

_ Who does that? _

"Oy, boke. I lost earlier but that won't happen again." Kageyama followed Hinata inside, and sat down next to Ushijima. Atsumu could swear that some of his teammates are losing their shit. Yes, they are famous, Black Jackals are also known across the country as well as the Adlers, but they're currently looking at a person who had been in a literal commercial, even if it was for curry.

They are looking at  _ Kageyama Tobio  _ who made his name ever since middle school as the genius setter, the miracle boy  _ Wakatoshi Ushijima  _ which is famous for his left-handed cannon spikes and  _ Hoshiumi Kourai,  _ which is none other than one of the three top aces of the country during high school. They are allowed to be starstruck.

"You wish. I will beat your ass every single time, wait for it." Hinata grinned, his eyes focused and taunting as if engaging in a secret challenge with the setter, as he sat in between Kageyama and Inunaki which was at their table, immersing himself between the two teams.

_ Such a social butterfly.  _ Atsumu thought as he downs his mug of beer, fluid almost uncomfortably oozing down his throat.

"Kageyama, just admit that you felt amazed by my serve. They now go  _ bwaaaam!  _ and  _ gwaaaah!  _ across the court! And I do jump serves now too, isn't that amazing? Huh? Huh?" Hinata exclaims as he nudged Kageyama's shoulder with his own, teasing him.

"Hah! I can already do that  _ bwaaaam!  _ and  _ gwaaah!  _ serve ever since high school. That's another loss for you, boke." Kageyama raised his eyebrow lightly and smirked at Hinata, whose face scrunched up.

"Argh!" Hinata pouted, but just as he does, he smiled.

"Doesn't change the fact that you lost earlier."

It was Kageyama's turn to frown as he grinded his knuckles on the top of Hinata's hair, twisting it, causing the latter to yelp in pain.

"He—" Atsumu started, alarmed at the expression on Hinata's face.

"Hey, Kageyama! The hell, that hurts!" Laughing, Hinata grabbed Kageyama's arm away from his head and placed it at the top of the table. Atsumu flinched, a sour taste crept up his mouth which was not supposed to be there. "That  _ still  _ won't change the fact you lose either. Hahaha."

_ Oh.  _ Atsumu pursed his lips and brought another mug of beer to his lips.  _ He can handle himself, of course. Why haven’t I thought of that? _

"Shut up, boke!"

There is something urging Atsumu to look away. For some reason, he declined the feeling. He stared and stared at how Hinata's lips curved upwards talking to his old classmate and rival (and god-knows-what is it between them), how they talked about things from their highschool days that Atsumu has no idea about, hearing how they reminisce and how they tease each other and how they seem  _ closer  _ than what they claim to be. At least for Atsumu.

He sees it, he hears it, still he can't turn away.

_ Maybe he's a masochist after all. _

-

After a  _ lot  _ of drinks later, Adriah stood up, as Inunaki stumbled, face tomato-red, visibly and thoroughly drunk, mumbling soft groans, half-asleep with his hand wrapped around Adriah's shoulders. Meian and the others also followed the motion and spoke.

"We oldies will get going now, we can't afford to ruin your fun." Meian chuckled lively as he brought out his wallet, and placed a couple of bills on the table. Meian turned to the door then looked back as if remembering something.

"Bokuto-kun. Could you escort Sakusa-kun home? Not now!" Meian reacted when he saw the expression on Bokuto's face. "Later, I mean," Meian gestured to Sakusa, his head lying face down on the table, lightly snoring from exhaustion. "He might not be able to go home by himself."

Bokuto nodded, face looking completely sober as if he hadn't just chugged six mugs of beer in a span of a couple hours. "I have nothing to do anyway."

With that, they waved and left the izakaya.

Deciding it was also the right time to excuse themselves, a lot of the Adlers also bid farewell to Kageyama and the others, barely being able to stand up with the alcohol running through their veins.

The sliding door closed, an awkward silence that immediately disappeared.

"I want another glass! Can ya refill this fo' me?" Hinata turned to Kageyama, raising his mug high up in the air, laughing uncontrollably, with the setter trying to make him calm down, confiscating the mug from Hinata as he formed a woozy grin.

_ Why am I watching this? _

"He sure is having fun, huh?" Bokuto laughs under his breath.

Atsumu pursed his lips and took another gulp of the beer he can't seem to finish. That thing in his throat prevents him to, just in there like a nuisance as always, stopping him from enjoying the night.

Hinata pouted and then smiled, lightly punching Kageyama's shoulder. "Yeah," Atsumu said matter of factly as he brought back his palm on its initial position: under his chin.

_ How long are they gonna make fun of each other? _

"Ya know, I could help ya bring him back home to the hotel. Akaashi-san is waiting for you." Deciding that he would give anything just to escape this situation, Atsumu opens his mouth in suggestion and Bokuto turns his eyes on him, thinking, weighing his options.

"Nah we're good. I can handle him." Bokuto's face broke into a smile as he stood up and draped Sakusa's arm around his shoulders, with his arm around the latter's waist supporting him.

"I also think it's time for us to go." Seeing motions of leaving, Ushijima and Hoshiumi also gathered their things, yawning slightly.

“I think I have had too much to drink.” Ushijima said curtly.

Hoshiumi chuckled. “If anyone here has had too much alcohol, Shouyou would be on top of the list.”

Hearing the mention of his name, Hinata turned his head. "Oh, Bokuto-san! Leaving already?"

That's when it dawned on Atsumu. The thought of being a third-wheeler causes his lips to involuntarily twitch but still he stayed silent. He admits he hates the thought, but he has to be okay with it. He has to.

He has to make sure Hinata arrives home safely.

One way or another, he has a right to. As an ex boyfriend.  _ Ex. _

"But it's still too early!"

"I need to bring Omi-omi home." Bokuto said with a warm smile, as he waved goodbye to them while walking towards the door, closely followed by the two. 

“Kageyama. Take him home.”

_ Home. Where is home for you? I wanna know. I wanna know what I lack, what my home lacks. Because all I ever needed was you. _

Bokuto's gaze met Atsumu's, and Atsumu could swear it was one of  _ pity. _

_ Pity? I don't need to be pitied.  _ The slam of the sliding door sounded too loud to Atsumu’s ears.

"Well, that's that. Should we go home now?" Kageyama stood up and looked at Hinata, who is now wobbling in his seat, dangerously falling back and falling forward, catching himself in time to prevent his body from slamming against the cold floor.

"Couldn't even hold your drinks properly, that's another win for me, boke." Kageyama said as he ruffled Hinata's hair, with a soft expression on his eyes.

Teeth unconsciously gritting against each other, Atsumu stood up, a little bit aggressively grabbing the money from the tables and set off to pay all of their tab, a stomp on his step. Kageyama did not even look up, too immersed in his own orbit.

"Um, sir? I think this is for you." The woman in the counter spoke, ridding Atsumu of the view of his kouhai gazing warmly at the man he used to love.

_ Used to. _

He turned his eyes to the hand of the woman holding a small note mingled between the bills which reads:

_ Come to practice tomorrow, Atsumu.  _ In Meian's handwriting.

Atsumu was confused— _of course he would attend practice. For what reason would he not, right?_ He thought to himself as he can't help but to stare again in the direction of Hinata looking up to Kageyama, drowsy and drunk.

For what reason, indeed.

-

"I had a good time."

A voice behind him spoke.

They are currently outside the izakaya, the cool night wind gently slamming across their faces. Atsumu heaved a big sigh, the gesture forming small bits of fog in the air which disappeared just as fast as they appeared. He can't help but to rub his hands against his arms, attempting to keep them warm as the temperature keeps on dropping.

After quite a while, Atsumu replied.

"Great." Atsumu's gaze fell towards Hinata, who was now dozing lightly, his body supported by Kageyama's arm around his waist, and Atsumu couldn't help but stare and  _ stare  _ like an idiot as he felt his breathing became labored again. Miniature pins sending tingling amount of discomfort on his chest, with the cold of that night passing through his nostrils, freezing his blood to the veins, making every intake of breath accompanied by pain and sting— Atsumu swore it was not because of what he had just saw. No, it's not because of that.

Atsumu let his arms fall from the sides. "So about Shouyou—"

"I'll take him. I have a car." Kageyama interrupts softly, head gesturing towards the black car parked around the corner.

With a bow, he limps away to the direction of the parking lot, speaking in a hushed tone, silent but enough to reach Atsumu's ears,  _ Hinata, you boke! You can't even handle your alcohol! _

That's right.

Hinata's already home ever since that guy came.

_ For what reason, right? _

-

"You look like you're already drunk."

A stranger sat beside Atsumu who was sitting on a high chair by the counter, who recklessly, without a care in the world, decided to enter the first nightclub he saw out of impulse and decided to spend the rest of his night there. Who cares if there's practice? They're all gonna be equally suffering from hangover and their coach will finally be fed up with them and probably let them rest. Maybe not, but Atsumu hopes he does.

"Shut up, I'm not."

The man laughed amused as if he's used to this behavior before. "Woah, having a bad day are we?"

Atsumu just shrugged and downed his ice cold brandy, savoring the feeling of it trickling thickly down his throat, still tight and uncomfortable, almost feeling like it's closing.

"How about you humour me a bit?"

Brows furrowed, Atsumu turned to stare at the man in an obviously tailored suit, dressed simply with his hair swept upwards, radiating in power and wealth, taking interest in him of all people. Atsumu is certainly proud of his looks, but there's a lot out there who is just like him— but more sober.

"Sorry, I only came here to drink," Atsumu said in a bored tone as he brought his glass back to his mouth. "And I have the money for it." He added just as the stranger was about to add something.

"I know you do. I'm talking about how I can show you a  _ good time. _ " Licking his lower lip maliciously, the man let his index finger trail down Atsumu's shoulders, down to his thighs. Atsumu threw his company a sharp look, which made the man stagger a bit backwards.

"Can't you ask other people? I'm not really in the mood for it." Atsumu shrugs as he grumbles, removing the hand on his thighs and back to its owner.

"I've been in here for an hour. Didn't take an interest other than you." The man looked back at the ocean of people, bodies grinding against one another, dancing to the beat of the music, living their best lives. "You just looked so gorgeous…and sad. It's enticing."

"Thanks, but that's not my problem." Atsumu moved his glass away from his face and slumped down the counter, head starting to throb annoyingly. He drank quite a lot back at the izakaya and now he's drinking again, it will be a miracle if he somehow gets out of today, migraine-free.

Instead of backing down, the man just sighs and chuckles softly. "You can call me anything you like."

Under the blaring disco lights, Atsumu looked once again at his companion whose lips playfully formed a smile

_ Under the blaring disco lights, his hair almost looked like the sunset. _

It wouldn't hurt, right?

-

Hands that are roaming hot skin, blood pulsing on his veins, out of nowhere, Atsumu stopped. Everything is different. The feel of the skin, the scent, the breathing, the heat— it was all unfamiliar to him. He felt uncomfort climbing up his spine, as he gritted his teeth and shook his head.

"What's the matter?" A seductive voice rang in his ears as Atsumu suddenly pushed himself out of the bed, grabbed his shirt that hung on the chair and threw it around his shoulders.

"This is for the hotel." Atsumu whispered apologetically as he buttons it close one by one, slinging his bag on his arm, preparing to leave. He whipped out his wallet, placed a couple of banknotes on the bedside table. As an apology, perhaps. A douche move, but Atsumu never apologizes, so it was better than nothing. He then smiled sadly and strode towards the door.

"Why?" Neutral, calm voice from the man half-naked on the bed, a tone that one shouldn't possess if they're being ditched in the middle of the night. Somehow, the stranger could also feel Atsumu's reluctance in every touch that he didn't protest when Atsumu decided to leave.

"Your eyes are blue."  _ And you're taller. Your hands are smooth, not calloused from slamming balls across the court. Your hair don't smell like peaches, your eyelashes are on the long side— _

Atsumu smiled bitterly to himself as he left the room, door clicking softly behind him.

-

Head in hands, with the migraine that formed last night still drilling into his skull, Atsumu sat by the bench that morning, having excused himself from the worried glances of his teammates.

"Are you alright, Atsumu?" A singsong voice reached his ears as Atsumu looked up, gaze landing straight into round, hazel ones.  _ Yes, this is it. _

"I'm okay. Don't worry about me." Atsumu waved a hand dismissively as he stood up and turned towards the bathroom. He doesn't know why he felt like he had to escape that time, all he knows and wants is to get out of there, to get out of Hinata's sight, and to disappear from it forever.

But Hinata Shouyou wouldn't make things easy for him.

"Hey, Atsumu!" Somewhat forcefully, Hinata yanked Atsumu's arm to make him look back and face him. "At least allow me to worry about you. Aren't we friends?"

_ "Friends don't imagine the other on their bed while kissing another person, though." _

"What did you say?" Out of nowhere, Hinata leaned forward, his face inches close to Atsumu, which made the setter back away reflexively, gulping and blinking rapidly. Heart in his mouth.

An expression of pain surfaced on Hinata's face for a second, but just like the fog yesterday, it was gone.

"Nothing you need to know about." Too preoccupied in his thoughts, Atsumu didn't notice this as he turned the other way to leave the awkward situation, but Hinata is fast. And persistent. He always had been.

"Do you hate me that much?" Soft tone of Hinata's voice reached his ears. Holding both of Atsumu's arms with his hands, keeping him from leaving, Hinata looked up to Atsumu's face, visibly conflicted.

"No. Why would I? We're friends right?" Atsumu choked out. It’s the truth, but why does it feel so wrong?

And Hinata beamed. A smile of relief and happiness in one, that Atsumu could not help but look at. It is still there. Not everything has changed.

"I'm glad."

_ Not everything. _

-

"Hinata, Miya, can you pick up the balls and tidy up the place? I could do it but I need to go somewhere today." Meian said as he checked his phone briefly, brows knitting in concentration.

"Goodluck on your date, Captain." Laughing, Hinata saluted as Meian fell into a deep shade of red.

"Guess the  _ oldies _ can also blush too." Atsumu pointed it out, smirking deviantly.

Meian crossed his arms and exclaimed, "It's not a d-date!" He clasped his hand against his mouth, surprised by his own stuttering. Turning even redder, which made Atsumu and Hinata howl in laughter harder, Meian said,

"For that, do twenty push ups!"

"He's so  _ shy _ ." Atsumu whispered as he turned to Hinata whose laugh is now ringing loudly across the court, arms on his stomach.

"I heard that, Miya!  _ Fifty!"  _ Meian stomped, turned his back and left the building before he embarrassed himself any further, huffing, with his ears still visibly red.

" _ Haaaaaah _ ." Hinata exhaled as he collapsed on the floor, legs slightly trembling from exhaustion from the practice earlier that day. "That was a good laugh.  _ I needed that. _ "

Atsumu nods, not quite catching the last part, but bringing himself to not ask any further.. "It was." as he started to pick up the balls on the floor one by one, and set them towards the basket, landing perfectly inside.

"Whoa. Your precision has improved by mountains." Hinata, now propping himself up with his chin, the front of his body still lying down on the floor, stared at Atsumu with curiosity and awe eminent on his face.

Atsumu's eyebrow raised at this. "What do you mean by mountains? I’ve always been like this."

" _ Lots _ . You improved lots during the time I was in Brazil."

Scoffing, Atsumu replied. "What a jerk. You're the one who improved astronomically here, not me."

Placing his hands behind his head as he went back to his position from before, with his back against the cold floor, Shouyou spoke in a soft voice. "I can't say I didn't— I really  _ did _ improve."

"See, even you—"

"But you did too." Hazel eyes now looking at Atsumu whose hands are already placed above his head, fingers preparing to set the ball, then slowly,  _ slowly  _ bringing it down and placing it under his arm instead.

"I noticed that you can now change your serve halfway. That's so cool! Now the opponent can't read your steps. We used to rely on that clue. We, as in my Karasuno teammates. We studied your matches the night before the match." Hinata stared dreamily towards the high ceiling, littered with softly gleaming lights bouncing on his tanned skin, almost making him seem like he's  _ glowing,  _ making his eyes seem like they're sparkling, so  _ ridiculously  _ beautiful that Atsumu found himself forgetting how to breathe.

Hinata whirled to his side, with the lights illuminating only one side of his face, of his body, forming shadows on his matured features, defined and thoroughly kissed by the sun itself. Eyes now curiously, silently peering into Atsumu's darkened ones who are struggling to conceal his desires, his wishes, his intentions.

His  _ feelings. _

_ Flooding inside of him, knocking the air out of his lungs, leaving him empty yet so full, blocking his airways, strangling him. Chest beating like a drum filled with water to the brim, painful and heavy. Thousands of realizations, admiration, longing, thoughts he forced to shut out, so beautiful, oh so beautiful. _

_ You are so beautiful. _

The ball falling down from his arms and slamming hard on the floor ended Atsumu's train of thoughts. He closed his eyes once again, as emotions continued to rush into him forcefully like champagne escaping from the bottle, at the first pop of the cork.

"Atsumu?"

Hinata Shouyou would  _ never  _ make things easy for him.

Atsumu sat down, extended his body, and placed his palms against the floor.  _ Fifty. Forty-nine. Forty-eight. _

-

"Yeah. I'll be there." With a smile, Hinata ended the call.

Walking side by side under the hot glare of light posts, Atsumu silently wished to be anywhere except here, where he just heard a ten minute conversation between Hinata and god-knows who (most probably Kageyama based on his tone), where Hinata let mini chuckles fall, tumbling down from his mouth, ringing  _ too loudly  _ on Atsumu's ears.

"I guess it's goodbye?" Atsumu took it upon himself to leave first. After all, he cannot just stay there while Hinata looks excited, looking forward to something that doesn't include him.

As if the gods are mocking him, "Why?" Hinata asked, feet slowly stopping, facing Atsumu as he balances his bag on his arm.

Atsumu halted also, an eyebrow raising in question. "You're going somewhere right? To your, uh, meetup?"

Hinata smiled at this and nodded. "Yeah, I'm planning a surprise."

That night was cold too, just like how it was the past few days.  _ Few years.  _ Atsumu thought it was lucky of him to bring his coat before he went out of his apartment.

A chuckle escaped Atsumu's lips. "I didn't peg you for the type that does surprises."

"How mean." Pouting, with his eyebrows knitted together, an expression not befitting of a 21 year-old. "I can do anything once I set my heart to it."

_ Of course you can.  _ Eyes crinkling fondly, a soft smile on Atsumu's lips, he raises his hand to ruffle Hinata's hair, but just as he does, an image forces itself in front of his eyes.

_ Tenderly, stroking the orange strands out of Hinata's forehead, too drunk to bother. Kageyama relaxes. His gaze soft and warm, full of unparalleled familiarity and attachment. _

He formed the hand into a fist and buried it deeply inside of his coat. Heart on his mouth, Atsumu silently cursed himself for being needful. For being truthful.

"What's wrong?"

_ As if the gods are mocking him,  _ Hinata Shouyou grabbed Atsumu's hand with both of his own and tousled his own hair with it, smiling.

"You can do it, you know. No need to hold back."

It overflowed. 

"Shouyou."

Flustered, Hinata looked the other way. "You can come with me if you want, we can bring a cake—"

"Shouyou."

Atsumu's hand, which is still on top of Hinata's hair, held him in place as Atsumu leaned down and slotted their lips together.

It was brief, yet it still feels excruciatingly slow as he lightly tilted his head to the side, lips just barely,  _ barely  _ feathering across Hinata's. Soft, yearning, full of emotions that are better left unsaid, things that Atsumu would bring to his grave. Loneliness he felt in his bones, loneliness in all those pitiful cold cups of cocoa, loneliness he was used to seeing lying down beside him at night.

Heavy, freezing and death silent as the ocean floor, pressure forcing his lungs to submit, to explode, to gasp for air, for space.

Atsumu opened his eyes, stepped backwards and left. Not looking back at Hinata who still has his eyes closed, hands in front of him, clinging to nothing.

Almost like a hallucination of the night, Atsumu left him there, with every burdened step forward, he bit his lip too hard it could bleed. Silently hating, cursing himself again, for giving in to the temporary weakness of his heart.

-

The practice the next day was a disaster.

"Miya, Hinata. Can I talk to you both for a moment?"

Looking up from his after-practice stretching, Hinata stood up and walked towards Meian, who had his arms crossed against his chest. Atsumu follows soon after, wiping his glistening forehead with the towel slung on his neck.

"What happened between the two of you?"

Hinata started. "Nothing, we were—"

"Don't try to get out of this, Hinata-kun. You both are off-game for a few weeks now. Last time you were happy and joking and everything and now you're both comparable to a sack of potatoes."

Atsumu raised his eyebrow at the comparison.  _ A sack of potatoes? _

"If you both keep on doing this, you'll lose your places as regulars." In a serious voice, Meian stared daggers at the two of them, making them back off. Just a little bit.

"Sorry." Hinata mused, as he bowed his head in shame. Seeing this, Atsumu follows the motion, eyes darted on the floor. It's true. His sets are getting lazy and half-assed, but that's not all. What he doesn't understand is why Hinata's spikes  _ miss. _ It can't be that he's affected like him right? Surely he's not. He's the one who broke it off. He's the one who got tired of their set-up, who made Atsumu feel like he's a rock on his path. The one who never called back when he promised to, one who replies to texts three days later— it was him. Not Atsumu.

"That's enough. I'll give you both the rest of the day to sort out yourselves. Do not come back to the gym if you're still acting like this." Meian gestured to the space between them.

In a less strict tone, "Don't let whatever happened between the two of you in the past change your relationship on the court." Meian added as he walked away, scolding Bokuto for letting the balls run away again.

Atsumu sighed. "Sorry."

Raising his head, Hinata just stared at Atsumu. Thinking, considering all the pros and cons, if there is any.

"How about we fix this all up over a cup of coffee?" In a weak voice, Hinata offered. A surge of confidence from the thought that Atsumu would reject, since he probably hated him. Hated Hinata for leaving him back in Japan, for leaving and taking his heart to somewhere else.

This brought a small grin on Atsumu's face. "Only if you let me treat you to a croissant." 

Hinata flinched. He wasn't expecting Atsumu would agree. Underestimation.

_ He's affected, all right. _

-

The cafe they ended up going to is small. Remote, even. Tsukishima once recommended this place to him, when he asked for a place to unwind and relax when he comes back to Japan, one that is close to Tokyo, where they hold their practices.

Bells rang as Atsumu opened the door, Hinata following closely behind. The setter waited until Hinata was fully inside before he closed the door quietly, making the latter's heart skip a beat. Maybe he's just not used to Atsumu being like that, or it has been so long since he'd done something for him, other than  _ obligatory  _ sets.

"Nice place." Atsumu whispers.

A rush of elation flowed through Hinata's veins. Maybe Tsukishima wouldn't mind if he took the credit. Maybe.

"Yeah."

Hinata walked past Atsumu, and went to sit down on one of the comfy mini sofa chairs placed at the far edge of the cafe. Without a word, Atsumu follows him and sits in front of him.

"You don't have to sit there. It's a bit awkward. You can sit beside me." Seeing Atsumu in front of him makes him think that they are on a date, which they aren't.  _ Right? _ They shouldn't be. There's nothing between them.

Oh how Hinata wishes he could take that back.

Atsumu raised his eyebrow, stood up and sat beside him.

The scent hit him like a ton of bricks.

Atsumu still smells the same just as he remembered him.

Mint and lemon. And a hint of aftershave.

Blood rushing to his veins almost forcefully it makes him woozy, he forces himself to be numb to the sensation. The feeling of nostalgia, many memories,  _ kind  _ memories accompanied by random ones, a broad back folding the laundry and cooking breakfast, large arms enveloping him from behind, bringing warmth to his freezing body, always. Things he kept in a small compartment of his heart and locked it there, refusing to let it out.

_ Warm, cracked lips that brought heat to his cheeks, stayed at his chest, too heavy, too painful. Down to his thighs, to his feet, to his toes. Increasing the temperature of his body, so much it was almost burning. Burning with desire, with longing, with loneliness as he pressed further. But it was gone the next second. _

_ The scent. _

"Shouyou?"

_ Shouyou. _

"Yes?"

"Are you okay? You're starin' at me for quite some time now."

_ Am I okay? _

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay." Blinking twice, Hinata said as he reached for the menu on the table. Atsumu just looked at him blankly, shrugged and reclined to the seat.

_ I should be okay. I broke it up, I gave up, I don't have the right to be anything else but okay. _

It's not easy, but he's getting there. Pretending, that is.

-

One thing that is terrible about a silent breakup is that:

_ There's no hate between the both parties. _

When they broke it off that night, Hinata's seventh month in Brazil, it was calm. They were both sober, though Hinata wishes he could be drunk instead. When he decided to call Atsumu to end all of everything between them, a bitter taste in his mouth while practicing how he would say that they don't talk at all anymore, no communication, too preoccupied with their own careers to even text and check up on each other. That both of them are at fault, both of them just don't have time, and that they should just stop their relationship that's bound to get nowhere—

_ That they are just waiting for each other’s call. _

"How's Brazil?"

_ Fine. Fine without you. Hot and sweltering. Beautiful. Beautiful without you. It doesn't need you. _

Voice that never failed to play his heartstrings like a damn guitar, Hinata swallowed thickly, closing his eyes. But it was a mistake.

Without the visual distraction of his turned off television and coffee table, Atsumu's voice just reverberated inside his head more, along with the black walls of the back of his eyelids, his good-for-nothing brain deciding it was the perfect time to be reminded of a certain person.

One that happens to be sitting beside him right now.

_ Shouyou, do you know that your eyes are what I look forward to seeing first thing in the morning? _

Hinata knows. Of course he does. Whenever he opens his eyes, Atsumu is there, already awake for thirty minutes earlier or so, just staring at his face, waiting,  _ waiting  _ until he finally wakes up. The first hit of the sunlight that bounced playfully on his round eyes, turning them into soft chocolate goo, so,  _ so  _ warm.

It was Atsumu's safe space.  _ Home. _

_ Not in Brazil, not in the volleyball court, not anywhere. _

So yes. For Hinata, Brazil was fine.

Atsumu fumbled with his fingers as silence stretched between them, refusing to address the warmth they felt that night, the rush of longing and familiar texture where their lips take shape into something that it shouldn't have. Too scared of what the other might say, scared to know something that might make them hope for more.

Quietly sitting, almost too comfortable with each other's presence, Atsumu sipping his cocoa, and Hinata with his croissant. Just like the old days.  _ Home. _

Hinata decides he cannot force himself to hate Atsumu anymore. After all, why would he? He has no reason to.

-

Atsumu came back to his apartment in a daze. Everything that happened earlier that day flowed as freely as seawater, no walls barred. Just in there, stagnant and almost unmoving if it wasn't for the breeze that comes and goes, rocking Atsumu's heart by the second. (Hinata's hair still has the scent of peaches.)

The unspoken words and emotions just sit and stare and  _ wait _ , holding them both by the throats, comforting and nauseating all at once, refusing to be ignored, at the same time forcing rocks down their stomachs. He can't speak.

He can't ask. Why Hinata is acting weird and strange and so obviously  _ affected  _ by a kiss that made Atsumu lose sleep over a couple of nights. Why he's silent, why his ears turned bright red when Atsumu sat beside him, and why he can't look the setter in the eyes. So many questions and Atsumu lost the opportunity to bring them out to light. So many things he wanted to know, things he wanted to clear, things he wanted to ask. But he still can't speak.

Atsumu plopped himself to bed, not bothering to take off his shoes and just let his legs dangle at the edge. Nothing happened that day was particularly exhausting, yet Atsumu can feel the weariness in his bones.

He just wants to bury his face deep into the covers, shutting all the  _ I hope  _ and  _ I wish  _ that's supposed to have already stopped a year ago, for some reason, is resurfacing back again.

_ I wish you were here with me. _

Atsumu shook his head. He wants that too, but not exactly.

_ I wish you were with me, instead.  _

-

A phone call woke Hinata from his day dreaming. He picks it up, without much mind on the caller. It doesn’t matter. 

“Hinata.”

Disappointment uninvitedly creeping up his neck, he couldn’t help but to mentally just slap himself for feeling this way.

He can’t _ dare  _ to feel this way.

_ Get a grip, don’t expect. Don’t read between the lines. For Christ’s sake. Stop. _

“Kageyama?”

“Can I ask you something?”

Hands on top of the kitchen counter, Hinata almost wanted to say no.

No, he cannot. He cannot hear it. He doesn’t want to hear it. Not when he just got reminded of the warmth he thought he could replicate, he could reproduce, it happened.  _ He  _ happened.

Not when his heart is torn in two, in guilt for a promise that was made on an impulse, and in loneliness.

_ Don’t ask for more. _

“Sure. Come over?”

Hinata almost wanted to say no, if it wasn’t for the relieved chuckle at the end of the line.

-

It took three months for Atsumu. Three months after Hinata decided to go back to Japan. Three months of sleepless nights, unanswered questions, and daily shifts in his brother’s restaurant. Three months praying, waiting for a closure that will never come, and honestly it was for the best. He never wanted it to close, this relationship, this connection he has of the man. A daily reminder that happiness truly does not come from others, but from himself. Learning it the hard way, climbing on a rough and treacherous path, he admits, accepts wholeheartedly that Hinata will never lose his rightful place in his heart.

Three months later however, his refrigerator is full again. Bed warmed again, by himself and no one else. Fingers stopped unconsciously searching for comfort at the other side, his wide body occupying all of the space. Teaching himself how to fold clothes properly, to leave the blinds open, allowing the morning light to bleed through his room. Accepting all the red, yellow and  _ orange _ , not treating the sun as a  _ replacement,  _ but a reminder that every day is followed by a next, and that he has to get used to it.

He stopped fighting it. That thing in his throat, he poured it all out. Not leaving anything behind. Not hiding, not holding anything back, and finally,  _ finally _ it was out of his system. Still, not all of it. There will always be something in there, holding him back, making him uncomfortable every time he sees warm, familiar,  _ nostalgic _ smiles not directed to him. No matter how much of his soul, his self he lets out, he still wishes he could be the one. He was alone then, and he will be alone for the next few years. It’s okay,  _ really. _

_ Really,  _ really. He is fine.

-

Hinata on the other hand, let guilt run its course.

_ You make every house a home. And you left. So I wanna know, where is home for you, Shouyou? _

He was asked this, as calm as the afternoon breeze, no fangs to bare. Genuine and curious. That's all.

_ Home is when you open your eyes, on the rare days when I wake up earlier than you. When soft rays of the early morning light glazes over your brown irises, so warm and full of care and comfort. Reminding me of chocolate milk, my favorite drink. _

A taste of heaven and more.

Hinata was given this, and beyond that, Atsumu loved him.

And he loved him back.  _ Back then, until now. _

**Even more in another’s home.**

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading and giving this fic a chance. feedbacks and kudos are appreciated from the heart. ^-^ ♡


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